Journey
by LadyBird
Summary: Ichigo dies. Things happen after that.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **not mine

**Rating:**** K+**

**Pairing: **none, at the moment

**Warnings **(edited as of 16th Sept)**: **Ichigo's death. A lot of talking and thinking. Almost no action. OOC Ichigo (you'll see why). Some (three, acrually) female OC-s on the sidelines of the fic.

Also – I'm **not** good at updating.

**Summary:** Ichigo dies. Things happen after that.

**Edited: **16th Sept 2008

**Journey**

**Part**** One****:**** Departure**

The story started with a death. Well, no, actually it didn't. Or at least - it didn't start with _this _death. There had been a death at the beginning of the story, but there had also been many deaths since. So - this death did not in truth start the story - the story had already been going on for quite a while. But one can say this particular death started a new cycle in it.

Kurosaki Ichigo did not think about that. He did not think about much except _fuck_. Which he also said. Loudly. Not that anybody could hear him. Fuck was the best possible description of the situation, really, since he was staring down at a body. His own. With a bullet in its forehead.

It was idiotic beyond words. Karakura was a small town. A peaceful town. The rate of crime was at its lowest of the decade and showing all tendencies to drop further. Karakura didn't even have its own criminal family, instead there was a small branch office of the one in the nearest big town. And the "personnel" of it consisted mostly of those who had, for some reason or other, been sent away from the eyes of their superiors. It was unanimously decided by the law-abiding townspeople of Karakura that the reason for that meager staff's stay in Karakura was mostly incompetence.

Perhaps it explained the current cock-up.

From what Ichigo could understand from overhearing the frantically shouting men, his current state of being was the result of a misunderstanding - _misunderstanding!_ - between the locals and a traveling group of Tokyo Jakuza. The aftermath of the misunderstanding was a corpse of an innocent passer-by (Ichigo) and three local criminals down with wounds of various levels of severity. To Ichigo's experienced eye none of the injuries looked life-threatening. In Ichigo's opinion this was deeply unfair.

The problem was, absurdity of the situation didn't make it any better.

Ichigo looked around. He could hear the sirens nearing and the ex-shooters were quickly gathering up their men and fallen ammunition, clearly intending to be off before the arrival of the police and emergency vehicles. Logical course of action for them, Ichigo supposed. But what should he do?

Strangely there were no Shinigami in sight rushing to preform soul burial. But then, none of the criminals had died and the feel of Ichigo's own presence had probably not changed enough to attract any attention. This was not the first time his soul was out of his body, after all.

But... Ichigo's brain finally registered the fact he had not noticed earlier: only once before had he been out of his body without his Shinigami attire and Zangetsu. Like he was now. Where _was_ Zangetsu?

Ichigo frowned. Well, standing there was not giving him any answers. Also, he didn't really feel like waiting and seeing the doctors confirm his death. And calling his family as soon as they identified him. That though finally gave him a direction for the next action. One: finding his father and informing him of what had happened. Two: talking to Karin. Three: asking Karin talk to Yuzu. And then...  
And then four: going to Urahara's and demanding some explanations. And, perhaps, a gigai. If possible.

Ichigo turned and started to walk down the street. He never reached the crossing, though.

_"King, we have a problem!"_

His partner's voice was uncharacteristically worried. Which was unusual. Nothing ever really seemed to faze Shirosaki. At least Aizen and his creations hadn't, not truly. Amuse or anger, yes, worry, no.

"What?"

_"King, look at your soul-chain."_

Ichigo looked down and felt bile rising into his throat. The last links of the chain – and he hadn't even known he had any soul-chain left, he'd always kind of assumed it had all gotten eaten away in that hell-pit of Urahara's – eroding away. Fast.

_"King, this is going to be the real thing. And neither I nor the Old Man can hold it off. You better find a Shinigami. Quick!"_

Ichigo decided that for once questions (like – how was he going to turn into a Hollow when he was already at least partly one?) could wait. He started running. His father qualified, right?

_"You're not going to make it, King."_

Ichigo could see that himself. Could _feel_ that himself. And the feeling was terrifyingly familiar.

"But there aren't any Shinigami around here," he panted. He tried going into flash-step and found out he couldn't. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

_"Typical. When they aren't needed, they're everywhere, nosing around in things that do not the least concern them. And when you need at least one..."_ It seemed Shirosaki could leave no chance to verbalize his opinion of Shinigami pass unused.

"Don't" gasp "you" gasp "think" gasp "it's not" gasp "quite" gasp "time..." Ichigo didn't finish his sentence, too concerned with breathing and _running_.

_"It is just possible you are right, King. And you _really_ aren't going to make it... Oh, k'so! nothing to do. I _will not_ be eradicated!"_

Without his will Ichigo's left hand suddenly shot up and hit his forehead palm open.

Between this moment and the next everything went dark.

A lone black butterfly disappeared into the skies above Karakura.

* * *

Kurosaki Isshin dropped the vial he had been holding, scaring the young woman who had come for her monthly check up.

Kuraosaki Yuzu sat down on the floor while her sister jumped up, her chair falling over with a crash.

All around the town several people suddenly paused in what they were doing and cast out their senses, desperately searching, searching, searching... and not finding.

Kuchiki Rukia landed next to the emergency vehicle just in time to see a doctor covering the face of the still body with a white cloth. She didn't have to look to know who it was. She screamed his name, in answer only hearing her own voice echo over the empty roofs of Karakura.

* * *

_"This was not the best course of action."  
_

_"I didn't see you coming up with anything better. Or did you _want_ to be become a part of a real mindless Hollow?"  
_

_"... there will be complications."  
_

_"It's__ the King. _Of course_ there__ will."_

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer, summary, pairing, warnings, etc: **See part one.

**Edited: **22nd Sept 2008

**Part Two: First Layover**

Ichigo woke up. He did not waste time asking stupid questions like: "Who I am?" or "Where I am?" He knew his name was Ichigo. He also couldn't remember much else. Just that he had died. _That_ he remembered well enough. Although he couldn't say why.

As to where he was - he knew that, too. In the Soul Society. But where exactly in the Soul Society... that remained a mystery. Together with the question of how and why was he so sure of his current location and situation.

Soul Society. The name had appeared from somewhere behind the dark barrier that seemed to be surrounding his mind. Not that he could see anything, or feel anything really wrong... there was just an impression that around his mind - or perhaps inside it - was a big dark area that covered all those things he should know but couldn't remember. Ichigo supposed there were memories hidden behind the darkness, knowledge, but at the moment all that was firmly beyond his reach.

_It's not time yet._

Ichigo sat up and looked around. He frowned. There was nobody but him - and grass, and trees - and probably some insects in the grass and some animals in the forest... Strange. He could have sworn he had hear somebody whisper. But unless trees could talk here...

No, they couldn't. That knowledge flowed into his mind from behind the dark border again. Trees were just trees here. And animals were animals. Except for black cats. Why were black cats different? That, he didn't remember. Oh well, something to ponder over later.

Right now he had couple of more pressing problems. Like - finding out where he was. Soul Society, all right. _But_ _where_ _exactly in the Soul Society?_ He was sure he had never been to this place before, even though he had forgotten the places he had been to. And, at that, when and why and how had he visited Soul Society? He was reasonably sure he had not died before - but Soul Society was supposed to be a place where you went _after_ your death, right? So - how? Nothing made sense. That meant finding somebody who could answer some questions was in the agenda as well.

But before all that - he had to find some food, and quick. Because, by Gods, he was _hungry_!

Ichigo moved to stand. To get some food, he had to go search for it, since sitting there wasn't going to bring him any, clearly. As he moved his hand he felt something to brush against his fingers. He looked down. In the grass next to him lay a dangerous-looking white knife.

Ichigo picked it up, temporarily forgetting his hunger. He was careful not to touch the edge of the blade since he could tell just by looking that it was wickedly sharp. Like cutting to the bone without noticing sharp. All in all, a useful thing to have in a strange place.

When Ichigo left the clearing he took the knife with him. For some reason it felt right.

* * *

Ichigo was eating a bun. Twelfth, in fact. And the nice old woman who had given him food was making some more. Well, given in exchange of Ichigo chopping firewood, carrying water, cleaning the yard, fixing the roof and some more things that needed to be done. Ichigo didn't mind, really. If anything, he was actually happy to work off some of his energy - feeling suspicious tingling all over his body and suspecting he was inadvertently going to throw off lightning when he moved was not the most comfortable feeling.

The woman put three more buns on his plate. Nice old woman was not really a suitable description for her. Ichigo had a feeling that in different circumstances he would have called her dangerous old hag. Especially after seeing the big axe, that she was carrying around more or less all the time, pointed at his head when he had knocked on her door. But since she was feeding him...

"You have come a quite long way, then," the woman said, continuing their earlier conversation.

"The forest doesn't really start until the 83-rd district and if you say it took you two days to reach the first houses - well, you must have woken up a lot farther. Strange that you made it here so quick. Most people stay in the district they wake up in for all of their stay in Soul Society."

"There was nothing to eat," Ichigo mumbled through his mouthful.

"No, there wouldn't be," the woman agreed. She paused, obviously weighing her words. Ichigo continued eating.

"You can't stay here. I would like to have a helper like you - and I would even feed you the enormous amounts of food that you would probably eat... But you can't stay here. It's safer here for you than in the eighties - or even seventies, but still... soon every thug in the district is making their way towards you and I do not want my house to become the ground zero in that fight."

Ichigo nodded. She was right. He'd already deduced the situation from her earlier explanation. He meant the talk they'd had after he had knocked on her door and literally begged for food despite the axe in he hand (thankfully she had fed him before asking any questions or demanding anything, the chores had come later). Ichigo also had a feeling that he had faced a situation like the one she described on his way to this place. He wasn't quite sure, since the time had melted into a haze of _hunger_ and _need_, but Ichigo had some mental pictures of men jumping at him, men trowing down their weapons, men running away from him... red drops slowly sliding down the blade of his knife... Somewhere in that haze a name had come to him. He supposed it was a bit foolish, but he named his knife Shiro. People sometimes named their weapons, right? And nobody had to know.

Still, Ichigo wasn't sure if what he remembered had actually happened, or were the men just phantom enemies caused by hunger. The images were very disjointed and the men seemed to be different every time. He couldn't really have fought his way down here, could he? Somebody would have surely managed to cut his throat somewhere along the way, if they had really wanted to, right? One man couldn't really fight off that many. Ichigo was sure he couldn't have. Especially with his condition being what it was on the road. "Crawled to the doorstep" and "ready to eat anything" had ceased to be just over the top expressions for Ichigo.

He did wonder, really, why the old woman had not taken the axe on him or simply driven him away. He couldn't have been a pretty sight - he still wasn't. Or why his mind had chosen precisely that time to clear enough for him to do that begging. Perhaps it wasn't important. Or - it probably was important, but he had a feeling he wasn't getting any explanations anytime soon. So he decided it was best to just accept the situation end eat the food that was offered.

Munching on the fifteenth bun Ichigo forced his thoughts back to the situation at hand. Like he had said to the old woman, Ichigo did understand why he couldn't stay with her. In truth it was quite simple. The way to survive in the outer districts - anything higher than the fifties, really - was to be either too unimportant to notice or too important to touch. Important meaning strong. And not in individual strength but in the numbers of underlings one could call upon in need. Anybody with spirit force to note but unable or unwilling to gather their own gang was sooner or later free meat.

Which actually didn't explain his host's position, but Ichigo wasn't going to ask questions.

"The possibly best course of action for you, in my opinion, would be to go somewhere into the twenties. Those districts are safe and orderly enough, you can find work there," she smiled slightly, "you have proved you can work. And it's still far enough from the Seireitei that you will not run into wandering Shinigami if you do not want to. Although..." She looked at him thoughtfully. "With your spirit force you could probably enter the Academy and become a Shinigami yourself. Do you wish to be a Shinigami?"

Ichigo shrugged. Shinigami - after hearing the word he knew who they were. And what they did. Did he wish to become one? He tried to figure out his feelings. There was admiration - and resentment, gratefulness - and annoyance, yearning - and fear. Did he want to become a Shinigami? He didn't know.

"No idea," Ichigo finally said.

The woman nodded, then turned and started cleaning the utensils she had used to make the buns.

"Considering the strength of your spirit force, the Academy seems to be a logical place for you. But your spirit force is...unusual. There's something about you... or something in you... I really can't predict how Shinigami will react to you. So unless you know what the irregularities are," Ichigo shook his head, "or how the Shinigami will meet you," Ichigo could only shrug, again, "unless you know for sure, I think it would be the best for you to find yourself a place in the twenties."

"After all," the woman took a canvas bag from the shelf and loaded it with remaining buns, "when you find out what gives off that strange buzz I feel in your spirit force, you can always decide to enter the Academy later."

She tied the bag with a piece of string and weighted it in her hand.  
"There," she thrust the bag at Ichigo, "something for the road. You should leave now."

Ichigo took the heavy bag. He looked at the woman. This bag meant he wasn't going to get hungry for several days. He bowed to her awkwardly, with the bag pressed to his chest.

"Thank you," the words were inadequate, but then, what would be enough to express what she had done for him? And the only way to pay her back at the moment was to leave before he brought trouble into her home.

The woman smiled: "Let's go. I'll walk you to the gate."

They walked over the yard, him rather more sure on his feet than he had been when he had first entered this gate, her calm and steady, geta soundlessly moving over the dry earth, steps still graceful despite her age. She was carrying her axe, again. Ichigo did kind of wonder at her preference of the axe - he'd seen several more weapons back in the house... There had been a bow and a quiver full of arrows - certainly a more suitable weapon for an elderly woman than an axe. But then, perhaps her eyesight wasn't so good anymore. It would also explain why she didn't use the sword he'd noticed in the corner.

At the gate they paused, Ichigo stepping out of the gate and then turning to say goodbye. The words froze in his mouth under her piercing stare. Strangely, Ichigo had a feeling that somebody somewhen had already looked at him like that - evaluating, weighting his worth, his ability. And... found him worthy. There was a sudden picture of a fair head bowed in apology - by before Ichigo could really take notice of it, the memory was gone. It was infuriating - knowing that there were memories hidden in his mind, memories that could perhaps explain what was going on - and not being able to recall.

Ichigo took a careful step back, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling of a bug under a microscope. The woman shrugged, releasing Ichigo with a lazy move of her hand.

"Go now," she said. "Those you should not meet are on their way here."

She was right. Still, Ichigo hesitated, despite knowing better.  
"Are you sure you will not have trouble if they do not find me? You are alone here."

The woman slid her fingers over the handle of her axe, almost like caressing it. She was looking down the road expectantly, as if she was wishing for the thugs to come in search for Ichigo.

"I am never alone. And there would be more trouble if they were to find you here. I'll just tell them you left."

There was once again something about her that made it impossible to doubt her words. Ichigo could certainly imagine that: the cruelest thugs of the district demanding to see him - and her calmly informing them that their quarry had left, as should they. And them going, probably meekly as well.

Ichigo looked at her - an old woman standing at the gate of her home, and saw a warrior in guard of a fortress. It felt as if he was seeing double... and her axe...

"Is that your zanpakuto?" Ichigo had no idea where the question had come from - or how he even knew what a zanpakuto was...

The woman - woman now again, simply a woman, but still... - slowly turned her eyes back on Ichigo. For a long time they were both quiet, the woman gazing at him impassively. Finally she spoke.

"Perhaps I was mistaken. Do go into the Academy. It is possible your fate lies with the Shinigami despite everything."

She suddenly turned and fixed her eyes at the road again.

"Go now!"

Her voice did not allow disobedience.

Ichigo run.

He did not worry for the old hag anymore, though. She would manage. She would always know how to turn any situation to her benefit, like... Like who? Ichigo did not know. But for some strange reason he was totally sure he would someday remember.

_You will._

What? Oh, just his mind playing tricks on him. He would think about it later, when he had time.

But for now... So - the twenties or the Academy? Which would it be?

* * *

_"He can't hear me."_

_"Hey, I can barely hear you and _I _remeber you are here! I see you! Did you know those complications of yours would mean this?"_

_"No... Not exactly. It should have sealed his memories and spirit force completely. Instead..."_

_"Instead it locked you in. But I'm still free and kicking! Which is good, since he wouldn't have made here otherwise. Ha! Did you see? Did you see us fighting those thugs? I bet that even with more than half his spirit force sealed he's still stronger than most of the Sinigami!"_

_"Since you used me - in a roundabout way - to preform soul burial, I'm locked in. But you are not. Part of his soul, but different part than me."_

_"Huh. Cracked up."_

_"Have you ever wondered how twin zanpakuto are formed?"_

_"Twin zanpakuto?!"_

_"There are no rules that they must have the same form. The Shinigami just assume."_

_"Hey, quit kidding me! You are just a part of the King like me, you can't know all this stuff!"_

_"But I have never said that __a part of his soul is all I am. Assumptions."_

_"You..."_

_"Start working on the barrier from your side, I'll work from mine. It will wear down quicker that way."_

_"Rrr. Don't think you're off the hook. By the way, how do the buildings look from the inside? Nice?"_

_"..."_

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **not mine

**Rating: K+**

**Pairing: **none, at the moment

**Warnings: **Still a lot of thinking and little to no action. One more female OC (two for the price of one, actually). What did I say about updating again?

**Part Three: Second Layover**

"Ichigo?" Mina looked out of the kitchen door. "Izumi asks you to chop some more firewood. We're almost out."

Ichigo nodded and stood up, carefully laying down the plate he had been carving. It might seem strange to use a fighting knife - for Shiro was clearly a knife meant for battle - for carving wooden dishware, but Shiro was comfortable for Ichigo to work with. Sometimes Ichigo had a feeling Shiro was deeply amused by both its new use and Ichigo's thoughts.

And how crazy was to give a knife not only a name but also a personality to go with it? A little crazed and maniacal personality...

Ichigo walked down the stairs picking up the axe on his way. The axe, while a simple tool for chopping wood, always reminded him of the old woman who had fed and advised him in the 67-th district. Sometimes he wondered if he should go and visit her, but it was a long way to go and he was busy enough here in the tavern with its flow of guests in search of company and relaxation after day's works. Besides, his spirit power had disappeared nowhere, so most likely a visit from Ichigo would bring the old woman plenty of problems she didn't need.

Well, that reasoning felt weak, Ichigo had to admit himself. In truth he did not feel like fighting his way up forty districts and then back down again as he had done on his way here. And since he still wasn't quite sure how he had managed that feat with his skin more or less intact, he wasn't sure he could do a repeat performance. So... not yet. Someday in the future, perhaps, but not yet.

His conscience calmed Ichigo chose a log from the heap in the corner of the yard and put his muscles and axe to work. While it was warm outside the customers appreciated a small log fire creating an atmosphere of coziness in the tavern's main room. Besides, Izumi liked live fire.

Ichigo brought his axe down. Izumi. Another little old woman who had, for whatever reason, taken pity on him and helped him. He'd knocked on her door one evening when it was dark already and cold, and he had no place to go since he had just reached the 27-th district and everywhere he turned there seemed to be closed doors and windows holding him out. Only the tavern had been open. Ichigo had thought to offer work for food and shelter for the night, but before he managed to get a word out Izumi had taken a look at him and sent him into the kitchen to be fed. Then there had been wonderfully warm bath and even better bed. Next morning there had been breakfast and Izumi pointing on a pile of firewood in the back yard waiting to be chopped. And then there had been more things to do, and lunch, and supper, and bed, and breakfast... Well, Ichigo hadn't planned on staying in the 27-th district. Or at Izumi's. But he did not regret things had worked out this way. He supposed he was content. There were many good things to be recalled from his time with Izumi and little Mina.

Ichigo remembered and chopped. Chopped and remembered. And the pile of chopped logs grew until it got in the way of chopping. Ichigo looked at the heap and chuckled. Well, there sure was enough firewood for next several days.

He gathered up the logs he had chopped. Better get them into the main room now, he'd tallied long enough with all the thoughts and such. It was amazing how much time he could spend just staring at nothing and musing about things. Something told him he hadn't been one for long musings before his death. But death was supposed to be an experience that changed people, right? He rather thought it also applied when the one who died was yourself.

And he was doing it again. The staring and thinking thing, that is. Enough. Ichigo turned and walked towards the stairs, his arms full of firewood. He was in the middle of the yard when the ground shook. Ichigo froze, precariously balancing his burden. What the...

There was a sound like... like something heavy was running and tramping over everything on its way without caring what - or who - it smote. That probably meant... Ichigo cursed. He had to get to the stairs quick. Then something hard collided with his back. Ichigo's front met the ground and the logs went flying all over the yard.

For a moment there was silence. Nothing moved. Then Ichigo struggled up on his hands and knees cursing quietly - Izumi didn't approve of swearing - and looked around the yard. He discovered he could remember some more choice words. Quite descriptive ones, too. It was going to take _ages_ to collect all those logs. And his back ached.

Ichigo stood up. Turned around. Promptly sat down on his ass again.

Behind - well, in front, now - of him stood a boar. With a red bow around its neck. Ichigo opened his mouth - and closed it again. Opened... and closed. Because what could one say when he'd been run over by a boar? With a red bow. Flame red. Kind of orange, truly. For some reason the boar looked awfully familiar. Even the bow. Especially the bow. Ichigo was sure he had never come upon this animal before. Even in the life he didn't remember. Because he _would_ have remembered it. A boar with a red bow was not something one could forget, right? Right?

The why was he so sure he knew what this monstrosity's name was?

Ichigo opened his mouth - for the third time - to say: "B..."

"Bonnie!" the call came from behind the corner of the tavern. "Bonnie, sweet lass?"

Both the boar and Ichigo turned their heads towards the sound. _Sweet lass?_

"Hey, Bonnie-girl, where are you?"

The owner of the voice - and, obviously, the boar - appeared in Ichigo's view. He looked ... well, like a man who owned a boar with a red bow around its neck, actually. In Ichigo's opinion the boar and the man looked like they belonged together, all right.

"Bonnie, dearheart, where... Kurosaki?!"

Ichigo was polite. Working for Izumi taught that, quick. So he didn't mention that staring with his mouth agape did nothing for the man's looks. He might have pointed this out, still, because, you know, sitting on the ground, which had met his backside hard, so you'd know, facing the boar, with a bow around its neck - not the most dignified position, really, and it demanded revenge. A lot of revenge. But Ichigo's thoughts were occupied by the fact that this man - this boar owning man - apparently recognized him.

Kurosaki. The man had called him Kurosaki. And it felt right. Kurosaki...Ichigo. Kurosaki Ichigo. Yes.

_Finally!_ the voice that was Ichigo's unseen companion growled from the depths of his mind. _We have connection!_  
"Shut up," Ichigo murmured... then caught himself. It was the first time ha had actually answered the voice in his head - because when you hear voices nobody else does it's not really a good idea to start talking to them. A little on the crazy side, you know?

_Your loss, King, your loss._ Even if they answer.

Ichigo shook his head. He did _not_ need to add more complications to his situation. There were enough as it was. And the most important one of those had just come out of his stupor.

"Kurosaki?! What are you doing _here_? Why aren't you in the Seireitei? Everybody went crazy for a while after you disappeared! You _do_ understand we though you went Hollow - especially after Urahara said it was quite possible? Your spirit force was nowhere to be found! We searched for you! I..."

"Quiet!" This worked. The man shut up. "I don't know what you are talking about," Ichigo said without thinking. Which was obviously the wrong thing to say since the man went red and started to sort of swell.

"YOU..."

"I don't remember anything!" Ichigo interjected, desperate to get his point across before he was going to be subjected to a thorough and in depth arse-ripping. Which the man seemed to be getting ready to deliver. Not that Ichigo blamed him. It seemed that whatever had happened, Ichigo had gone and dropped out on people who had known and cared for him. Worried for him. It made Ichigo feel warm inside, although he still couldn't remember anybody. But just the knowledge that there had been - were - people like that...

Ichigo wouldn't confess to anybody, but as time had worn on and he had met nobody who knew him, nobody who was searching for him...he had felt...not so good. Alright, he knew that the Soul Society was a _big_ place, and really, most people never met anybody they had known in life, and finally even the memories of that life faded... But he had still wondered if there was anybody who missed him.

Then the man's words caught up with Ichigo. They'd thought he'd become a Hollow. The question of why could wait because the man had also said they'd searched for him and the place one would search for a Hollow would be... Cold shivers ran down Ichigo's spine. Hueco Mundo was...dangerous.

"Are they all right?" Ichigo wasn't quite sure who "they" were, but had a sudden need to confirm nothing had happened to those who had searched for him.

"Yeah," the man shrugged. "There were some tight spots, but we made it out more or less in one piece and... Wait," the man interrupted himself, "you said you didn't remember anything?"

Ichigo sat on the stairs. The man settled himself down next to Ichigo, absently patting his boar on the nose. His eyes were trying to pore holes into Ichigo. Ichigo sighed. This was going to be a long explanation.  
"I get flashes, glimpses of past, but they are really disjointed. Sometimes I know things without knowing how or why... I know I must have died, but the first thing I remember is waking up somewhere in the eighties with no idea how i got there..."

"So, no memory?" the man, who had identified himself as Shiba Ganjyu, scratched his neck.

"No concrete memories, no," Ichigo specified, "Like I said, I get flashes. But I usually don't know what they're about."

Ganjyu frowned. "No Zangetsu either," he commented.

Zangetsu? The name evoke a feeling of loss, of a piece ripped away, a feeling so strong and sudden it almost felt like a physical pain. Ichigo gasped.

"Ichigo?" Ganjyu sounded worried.

Ichogo shook his head. "I...don't know. And I can't remember. Which is weird, since I usually do remember things when I hear them said. Not much, just pictures and such, but I do remember at least _something_... I did remember about you," true, what he remembered was mainly about their first meeting and everybody else but Ganjyu and Bonnie were still only hazy shapes, but he _did_ remember.

"There's nothing about Zangetsu. When you said it - I, I felt like I'd lost something very important... But I don't even know what I've lost." Ichigo looked helplessly at Ganjyu.

"Zangetsu is - was - your zanpakuto," Ganjyu explained hesitantly. "That you don't have him with you might mean... Um, I'm not that sure what it might mean, but whatever it is, it might explain why you don't remember. Somehow. I don't know how, though." Ganjyu rubbed his nose.

"I had no weapons with me," Ichigo thought back to his waking, trying to remember every detail as clear as possible, "except for, perhaps, Shiro."

"Shiro?" Ganjyu's voice was suddenly careful and tense.

Ichigo pulled the knife out of it's sheath and held it up for Ganjyu to see.

"I call it Shiro. I don't know why. People sometimes name their weapons, right?" Ichigo felt kind of embarrassed and defensive. And curious. It _was_ stupid to name a knife Shiro, but it didn't explain Ganjyu's reaction.

"It was with you when you woke up?" Ganjyu was eying the knife with trepidation.

"Well, it was near me. Near enough that I found it almost immediately after waking up," Ichigo explained.

Ganjyu kept staring at the knife. Ichigo held it out for him. "Do you want to take a closer look?"

He was startled when Ganjyu almost jumped away at his words and then shook his head frantically.

"No, no need, keep it!"

Ichigo couldn't help but get suspicious. Ganjyu had quite an arsenal himself, if you know where to look at. He certainly didn't seem like a man who would get nervous because of a sharp knife.

"Ganjyu, is there something wrong with the knife?" This was, in essence, a stupid question. Ichigo could get an answer simply by observing Ganjyu's reaction to Shiro... But what exactly was wrong?

At Ichigo's question Ganjyu tore his gaze away from the knife and looked at his hands. Which were fidgeting with the end of Bonnie's bow. He was obviously uncomfortable.

"Umm, Shiro was... the name of your Hollow."

Ichigo felt kind of sorry looking at Ganjyu trying to find the right words. Then those "right words" reached Ichigo's brain. Wait. What? WHAT?

"My _Hollow_!?" Ichigo had though he had long since successfully passed the stage of breaking of the voice. It seemed he was mistaken.

"Um, you see, there was... Well, Kuchiki Byakuya kind of destroyed your chakra centers... And you had to rescue Rukia so Urahara did something... Um... Oh, I can't explain, I... Sis! Big Sis could explain it to you much better!" Ganjyu jumped up, clearly relieved and happy at his solution.

"C'm on, I'll take you to our place, she'll tell you everything!"

Ichigo doubted that Ganjyu's sister, whoever that was, might explain _everything_, but the idea had merit. If she could explain even _some_ things, Ichigo would come out of the meeting knowing more that he did now. So.

"All right. Help me to collect the firewood. I'll tell Izumi I'm off for some time. She's been saying I should take a holiday for a while now."

Although, looking at Ganjyu who was trying to get Bonnie carry the logs he'd collected, Ichigo had a feeling that meeting the woman who was Ganjyu's big sister should be called anything but a holiday.

* * *

"_I'm bored."_

"_..."_

"_Too much work is harmful. I want to have fun."_

"_... Go on, then."_

"_And do what? The King has yet to figure out how to come here, I can't pull him in because you are still sealed, and I can't fight with you... because you're stuck on the other side of the barrier!"_

"_It is thinner already."_

"_Yeah, good, but I'm bored now!"!_

"_..."_

"_Tell me a story!"_

"_... A story?"_

"_Yes! A story! You know, with things happening!"_

"_A story... All right."_

_**tbc**  
_


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer, summary, pairing, warnings, etc: **See part one.

**A/N: **I'd apologize for the long wait, but I did warn you. Perhaps it is easier to wait for the next chapter knowing that the story is now written in full and the only problem is transferring it from my notebook (yes, I'm the kind of freak who prefers using a pencil and an actual paper notebook) into the typed in form. Which may take surprisingly long.

**A/N2: **I began to write this one quite a long time ago. I'm basing it on the series as it was when I started writing.

**A/N3: There are some revisions in the previous chapters. Nothing big, except for Zangetsu and Shiro's conversation at the end of the third chapter.**

Edited on May 24th. Thanks, Enslavement Thesis.

**Third Layover (Part One)  
**

The sky was blue. No, that was not right – the sky was _blue_. Impossibly deep blue of a summer day with not a cloud in sight. Midday blue even though the sun was already low enough to be partially hidden by Shiba Kuukaku's rocket launcher.

Ichigo turned to lie on his stomach, supporting his chin on clasped hands. Shiba Kuukaku's rocket launcher. Shiba Kuukaku.

Ichigo looked towards the house carefully ignoring the big sign and its support. Especially the support. Whatever Kuukaku said about being "quite natural" and "you've seen them enough, every woman has two", there were some things – _ahem_, body parts – that in Ichigo's opinion were just not meant to support signs. But who asked him? Kuukaku always did what she wanted. And she was guaranteed to want the most insane and embarrassing thing Ichigo could think of. Well, at least it was always unexpected and surprising also. Which didn't actually make it better.

Yeah, Kuukaku liked defying expectations.

Ichigo remembered meeting her for the first time... Well, this time around. Heh, like he could ever forget that!

* * *

Ichigo's backside ached. Really, it felt as if there was not a patch of his lower body that was some other colour than black and blue. A quick way of traveling riding Bonnie might be – but comfortable it was not.

When the boar stopped in front of the gate Ichigo gathered up his willpower, mentally commanded his cramped fingers to release Ganjyu's belt and more or less fell on the ground. Good, solid, _un_galloping ground. His legs were shaking. Ganjyu turned and grabbed Ichigo's elbow, frowning.

"Sorry, I forgot that you aren't used to riding boar-back. I have been told it can be rather trying the first time."

Trying it had been. Ichigo doubted it would be any easier the second time, either. Or the third. In fact, he quietly avowed never to ride a boar again, no matter the need. Nothing could compensate feeling like _this_. Still, it had gotten them here quickly. Ichigo shrugged looking around - and froze, his eyes transfixed on the... What he had taken for a gate was actually a sign declaring the house a Shiba residence. The sign was mounted on two giant ears. Ganjyu's words, sounding during most of the ride from hell, but largely ignored by Ichigo who was being more concerned with not falling off Bonnie's back, were were rising up in his brain.

_A bit eccentric_, Ganjyu had said. _Quick tempered, some say a little violent – but don't worry, she'll just beat you into ground, nothing more, you'll be able to walk again really soon, and she forgives quick once she's gotten it out of her system, and you didn't get on all that well last time, so she might be a little annoyed with you..._

Ichigo swallowed. If Ganjyu's "a little annoyed" was on par with his "a bit eccentric"... Ichigo decided he did not need to solve the problem of his memory loss all that badly. Actually, Izumi might need his help with the guests. Like, right now.

Ichigo turned to his companion.

"Listen, Ganjyu..."

"Oy, lazy-bones," the voice came from the direction of the house. It was not a kind of voice you could ignore, both in tone and decibels. Ganjyu fairly jumped.

"Where'd you ran off to? You were going to... Kurosaki?!"

The woman was...impressive. Yeah, that was the word. Impressive. She was pretty, sort of – Ichigo desperately hoped she could not read his thoughts – despite the clothes, the hairdo, the metal arm, or perhaps because of them... Actually, the arm kind of suited her...

But she had a presence and that presence told she was not the one to be trifled with. Ichigo had a sudden impulse to prostate himself on the ground and beg her not to kill him. Which was stupid, of course, because he didn't think he usually did prostating and begging, and he had done nothing that merited killing. At least to her. At least as much as he remembered. And what did "didn't get on all that well" meant, exactly?

"I beg your forgiveness, Nee-sama," Ichigo had not imagined a person could that quickly and still be understood, but Ganjyu obviously had a long practice.

"I went further than planned and met Ichigo in the twenty-seventh district. He doesn't remember anything."

The woman's face lost that slightly (well, a lot, truly) manic grin that had made Ichigo's knees tremble.

"Anything?"

Her voice was slow and calm, stretching the word out questioningly. The tone was also much more terrifying than the earlier happy expectation of violence.

"See, he has..." Ganjyu started, but Ichigo decided to take things into his own hands and interrupted Ganjyu.

"I woke up in Rukonkai and knew my name was Ichigo. And that I was in the Soul Society. That's all."

Ichigo be damned if he let anybody scare him, no matter how dangerous they might be. Or, at least, he wasn't going to show his fear.

Her gaze held almost physical weight, demanding explanations. Ichigo had no idea why it seemed to be so important to her that he explained – or to him to explain, but he had learned to trust his hunches. And all his being was almost screaming at him, telling that tis was important... And that he should not disappoint this woman. Bizarre, really.

"I woke up in Rukonkai," he repeated. „I knew my name was Ichigo and that I was dead. And I was hungry..."

The woman lifted her hand – the flesh and blood one – to stop him.

"If we speak about being hungry, I must say it's well past dinner time," Ganjyu hunched under her gaze, "it would be good to finally eat it. We will continue this conversation after we have eaten."

Her eyes caught and held Ichigo's.

"I am Shiba Kuukaku and I welcome Kurosaki Ichigo in my home. Come," she turned and walked towards the house.

Ichigo looked at Ganjyu. Who shrugged, apparently understanding no more than Ichigo. Ganjyu shrugged, tilted his head - a sort of: _well, what you're waiting for?_ and together they moved to follow Kuukaku. As Ichigo watched her disappear through the door, he had a feeling that when Shiba Kuukaku said: "Jump!", most people didn't even pause enough to ask: "How high?"

***

Food was good. The sake was also good. Ichigo felt much less tense with his stomach full and his head buzzing pleasantly. Ganjyu managed to look both sleepy and alert at the same time. Kuukaku was... Actually, Ichigo couldn't decide what mood Kuukaku was in. She had listened to his story attentively, asking questions here and there, getting out of him things he didn't even kow he had noticed – or remembered.

Judging by Ganjyu's reaction, who was looking at Kuukaku with a puzzled frown, this calm and attentive demeanor was not a side of Kuukaku oft revealed to him. Ichigo was not sure why his story was receiving what seemed to be an unusual level of attention from Kuukaku – hey, it was important to him, all right, but to anybody else? Though he did feel strangely pleased that it was. Kuukaku was inexplicably important to him – considering that by Ganjyu's words – which he had no reason to doubt – he had met her all of five times, all of them brief, and they had not left a good impression on each other. Perhaps it was simply because like Ganjyu, she was somebody who knew him – even if he couldn't remember her.

It also might have been that she was a clever and beautiful woman. Although... All right, she was beautiful – and dangerous, not to forget that (and Ichigo could almost hear something in him say _dangerous is good!_), but Ichigo didn't really think it was that. Or only that. He'd met women – working at Izumi's he was bound to – who'd he liked and, well, desired, and this wasn't it. He wanted Kuukaku's approval all right, but not... Well, it was confusing.

Ichigo finally reached the conclusion in the depths of his mind that he wasn't likely to fall in love nor in lust with Shiba Kuukaku and left it at that. There were some things in life that, in Ichigo's opinion, were better not dwelt on. This was definitely one of those.

"Well," Kuukaku said, breaking the silence that had fallen after the end of Ichigo's story.

"Well," she nodded thoughtfully. "Not remembering your life is not unheard of. Sometimes it happens to souls whose death and transition to the Soul Society was especially hard. But," she looked at Ganjyu, "from what I have heard, yours was not the case."

"A clean bullet through the head," Ganjyu supplied. He shrugged. "Instant death, the medics said."

Ichigo knew what a bullet was, now that Ganjyu had mentioned it. However, he had a feeling he shouldn't have been in a position to catch one.

Ganjyu met his questioning gaze and explained with a shrug: „You walked into a group of local criminals having a showdown."

Well, that certainly explained it.

Kuukaku shook her head thoughtfully. "That would be a no, then." She pursed her lips. "The other common case of memory loss are the souls who were given a soul burial at the last possible moment – or near it – before becoming a Hollow... Or," Kuukaku was clearly weighing her words, fitting them to the situation, "souls who _did_ become a Hollow and were then purified." Both she and Ganjyu were now looking at Ichigo in a way that made him rather uncomfortable. _Hollow?_

Ichigo licked his lips. "Did _I_ become a Hollow?"

Ichigo didn't really want to know the answer. It would explain much, though. Somewhere at the edge of his senses he could hear somebody chuckling. What had Ganjyu told him about his...inner Hollow? Was that why...?

Kuukaku eyed Ichigo thoughtfully.

"After the shooting? No, there was no time. It takes along while for a soul chain to erode, and your spirit force disappeared from the Living World in the matter of minutes after your death. Which in itself was unusual, since there were no Shinigami around to preform the soul burial. But, in your case I understand there was not a question of so much _becoming_ as _being_," she flicked a finger to stop Ganjyu, who had started at her words, "I know, Ganjyu. Considering that I talked to Yoruichi I probably know more that you."

Yoruichi. That name brought a memory with it. A black cat – and Ichigo remembered now why he had considered black cats an exception from the non-talking fauna. Not all the black cats, really, just one. And also there was a memory of a naked woman in pool with him. That had been embarrassing. But _why_ had they been in that pool together in the first place?

"Yes," Kuukaku nodded, apparently concluding something for herself, "that reason for your memory loss is actually rather probable. It still does not explain the absence of your zanpakuto, but I suspect that is a sign of another problem entirely. Which I currently have no idea about."

Ichigo considered her words. All right, he had an explanation on how. However, he still had no idea why. Inner Hollow, okay, but – but there had not been enough time for him to turn into a Hollow after his death, and Ganjyu was sure he hadn't, there were people in Karakura who would have felt the change in his spirit force if he had. Also, Ganjyu had spoken of Ichigo's inner Hollow as if it was something that had been around for a while – hey, it had been around long enough to be _named! _- and again, Ichigo could hear faint laughter – that meant...

Actually, Ichigo had no idea what it meant. Or where he was going with it. But perhaps Kuukaku would know?

"But why "quite probably"? Ganjyu mentioned there was a Hollow in me – sort of – but how did it happen?"

Ichigo looked from Ganjyu to Kuukaku.

"Forgive me for asking, Shiba-sama, but I do not understand...No," Ichigo corrected himself, "I do not remember."

"Ah," Kuukaku grinned and suddenly in front of Ichiogo was once again the woman who had greeted him near the house-sign. „This," she took the bottle from the table and poured herself a generous amount, "is a rather long story. One that I think Ganjyu and I will enjoy telling you. At least," she looked thoughtfully at the newly empty bottle and then threw it carelessly out of the window. Ichigo winced at the crash, "the parts that we know of. If you say hearing about things helps you to remember, then why not? And call me Kuukaku-neesama. Most of the district boys do."

Ichigo picked up a grass blade and chewed at it, deep in memories. They had all ended up dead drunk that night. He and Ganjyu woke up the next morning still on the dining room floor, although covered with blankets, and with killer headaches. Kuukaku had obviously had enough presence of mind to get into her bedroom and face down on the bed. The headache Ganjyu and Ichigo nursed was also glaringly absent in her case. But then, as Ichigo later found out, Kuukaku was famous for her ability to drink anybody under the table, and having no hangover no matter how much she drank.

Ichigo knew that being envious of the ability to drink a lot and not suffer a hangover was childish, at the very least. He still was. Envious, that is.

Ichigo was not quite sure how exactly he had ended up accepting the offer to move into the Shiba residence. Or how that offer had been made. All he could recall after a certain point of that first evening was impenetrably covered in the haze of strong sake, but Kuukaku swore that he had agreed. Actually, Ichigo could, with very, very great difficulty remember a conversation on the theme of his living arrangements in the Soul Society. He just wasn't all that sure what had been said.

Well, however it had happened, here he was. With his own room and everything. Ichigo had even quit working at Izumi's – not because it was a long way to go each morning (Ichigo had, despite his fervent vows, mastered riding boar-back... okay, he had mastered clinging to Ganjyu and not having his backside pummeled on every hop) – but because Izumi had sat him down and told him it was time for Ichigo to move on. And not to worry about her, she'd already found a young man who was eager to start working for her. Ichigo was not surprised – Izumi paid good wages.

Anyways, Ichigo had, with some regret, said goodbye to Izumi and Mina, promised to visit and moved his things to the Shiba residence. Moving on, however...

Well, that proved a bit difficult. Because Ichigo had no idea where exactly to move. More than once he caught himself considering the far-away glow of the golden roofs of Seireitei thoughtfully. But there was a kind of feeling in him, a feeling that said: "Not yet."

* * *

"_Once there lived a goddess. She lived in a far away land near a big river. Some say she was the river. She was honoured and worshiped and she blessed her followers so they lived in prosperity and were lucky in all they did. But times change and new gods came to the land and her followers turned away from her. The goddess grew sad seeing her people bowing to others. But she still loved those who had once followed her teachings so she did not start a war against the new gods for many would have died. Instead she turned her face to the East and left her old home behind. She flew for a long time until a sea was beneath her. And lo – behind the sea she could see the mountains of a new land. She landed on the shore. When the gods and goddesses of the land came to greet her she told them her story. And a wise goddess among them told: „Our land is not big, but our people are numerous. They know how to hold all of us in their hearts. If you wish them well and bring happiness and peace to them, you are welcome among us."_

_The goddess bowed her head. She reached out and felt the land and the people and she felt they said „Home!" to her. She opened to the gods and goddesses of the land so they could see she was true and told them: „I wish to stay."_

_The land and the people accepted her and she became much loved and honured. In time she gave birth to fourty sons and then she gave birth to fourty daughters and they were wize and taught people many important things."_


End file.
